It’s been half a century since New York’s Hamilton County — scene of today’s whitewater-rafting throwdown between Mayor Mike and Gov. Andrew of the Adirondacks — voted Democratic in a presidential election.

So imagine the joy among the North Country locals at the arrival of a platoon of big-time Democrats, by affiliation or affection, all seeking to be of “help.”

Somebody could end up inside a bear. (Just kidding.)

The raftlapalooza is to celebrate the 6.1-million-acre Adirondack Park as a premium destination for outdoor-oriented tourism — which it certainly is. And it follows by a day a similar competition between Gov. Cuomo and state legislators.

Actually, the last time Hamilton County got such attention was 40 years ago next month — when Hilary LeBlanc, a local boy grown up to be a conservation officer, shot and captured the sadistic serial killer Robert Garrow.

And that’s not fair, for the Adirondacks deserve attention. In the summer, they’re as close to vacation perfection as can be found anywhere.

Sure, there are mosquitoes so fierce they don’t bite, but rather latch on and suck you dry as a cornhusk. And it’s a long haul to a good pizza. But there are compensations.

The High Peaks radiate beauty in 50 shades of green, flecked with wildflower blues and yellows and reds; crystal-pure lakes and ponds and streams sparkle everywhere.

Mountain shadows mute the sunsets as night descends — and the sun doesn’t come up next day so much as the dark gradually softens and suddenly it’s dawn.

The morning sounds are best: Waterfowl always have something to say, and the songbirds, and could maybe that clipped barking off in the brush have been a fox? It is not until later that the rented Jet-Skis come out on the lakes to annoy the purists — but also to inject a little cash into the economy.

Which sorely needs the dough.

Hiking and camping and biking and canoeing and kayaking — muscle-powered tourism, the point of the weekend exercise — are fine, as far as they go. But if that’s all there is — and it is all there is — then there’s not much money in it for the locals.

They understand all too well that for decades it has been the (unstated) policy of New York state to squeeze most of the people out of the Adirondack Park — a constitutionally created forest preserve larger than the state of Vermont, incorporating scores of villages, hamlets and towns across 11 North Country counties.

In 1971, then-Gov. Nelson Rockefeller created the Adirondack Park Agency, to put some heft behind the park’s motto — “Forever Wild” — and he succeeded with a vengeance.

Ever since, to propose dropping so much as a pebble into a pond for commercial purposes is to invite a visit from the Hounds of Hell — first up, APA bureaucrats, and then the activists and their lawyers.

In this respect, Hamilton County — smack in the middle of the park — is very much representative. There’s not one permanent stop light in the entire county — not enough traffic to warrant one. Maybe someday soon broadband Internet will arrive, or maybe not.

Salvation of sorts, a development that could mean hundreds of jobs at Tupper Lake, 40 miles north of today’s raft-fest, has been sunk in regulatory muck for a decade — even as the county lost more than 10 percent of its permanent population.

Many of the remaining 4,800 bitter-enders endure a proud, self-sufficient sort of poverty, taking much of what they need from the land. It’s a hard-knock life by any standard, but not without its rewards. Still, people leave and simply don’t return.

And this is sad. Study village memorials commemorating service in America’s major wars, and certain surnames predominate. This speaks to a presence that crosses the generations; surely such families warrant standing in the debate. No?

But they’re not likely to be mentioned today. A governor who can’t say the word “fracking” without setting his hands to shaking isn’t likely to broach this issue. Not today, not ever.

Certainly the Adirondacks are a vast treasure in need of intelligent protection, and the park must have it. But Vermont deals with similar challenges in ways that protect its forest heritage while reasonably promoting its economy.

No need of rafting stunts there.

But there’s not a news outlet in New York strong enough to resist an image of Mayor Mike in a Day-Glo life vest with a matching helmet plopped on his head. Or the governor, either.

So may the best raft win.

Yet tomorrow it’s back to cold porridge for the locals. Not to worry, though; they’re tough, and they’re used to it.